


Red Stains

by agentcalliope, chinesebakery



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fitz and Simmons are so discreet, Fluff, No one would ever suspect, Post-Singularity, Secret Relationship, everybody finds out, for like 5 minutes, no wait, very quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/pseuds/agentcalliope, https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinesebakery/pseuds/chinesebakery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team finds out about Fitz and Simmons new relationship status in a rather unexpected manner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Stains

Leo Fitz was in _heaven._ For the third time this week, he and Jemma had professed a mysterious and pressing emergency to scram from their desk and enjoy an impromptu makeout session in the broom closet adjacent to the lab –not too bad for a Tuesday. He knew she was feeling a little guilty about it –her works ethics were much stronger than his, that was common knowledge– but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not one little bit.

Not when he had Jemma Simmons up against the door with her hands running up and down his back underneath his shirt and her tongue so far down his throat he probably wouldn't notice if the entire base was collapsing around them. Again.

The confined space and the relative darkness of the closet made it even hotter, too. It was as if they were doing something illicit. Well, to be fair, they _were_ doing something illicit. Blowing professional obligations to _fraternize_ with your girlfriend, who also happened to be your colleague, had to be against one rule or another.

He was about to ride up her skirt –since they'd gotten together, Jemma had taken to dolling herself up and wearing skirts again, which, in situations like these, were exceedingly convenient– when her phone chimed. Jemma reluctantly pushed him off her and bent her head down to read her incoming texts.

"Sorry," she said, glaring at her phone. "It's Lincoln. He needs me in med bay."

"Is it urgent?" Fitz scrunched his eyebrows together, hoping against all hopes.

But Jemma was already back to work-mode. With her eyes glued to her screen as she typed in a reply, she nodded absently, muttering a few parting words.

Regretfully, he watched her go, shutting the door swiftly behind her. Switching back to his professional persona wouldn't be as effortless for him. Thankfully, working alongside Jemma Simmons meant there was never a shortage of gross concepts and sightings for him to think about to... help matters. But standing alone in a cramped and dingy closet waiting to cool down wasn't quite the outcome he'd been hoping for.

***

Daisy wondered if she was being punished. Staring at the mountains of paperwork scattered across the table, she couldn’t help but feel the massive headache, which barely ever reduced since she'd been freed from Hive’s infection, grow stronger. Stretching in her seat, Daisy finally grabbed the first document and within two sentences she was confused- what kind of a word was _‘bilk’_ , anyway?

Yep, _definitely_ being punished.

Daisy groaned and banged her forehead against the table, closing her eyes and realizing that thumping her achy head on anything wasn’t a very smart move.

“Ow,” Daisy muttered.

“Hey, be careful. You know how hard we worked to fix that head of yours?”

She straightened up at the sound of that accented voice, a rush of apprehension coursing through her. Fitz had been great. They'd all been great, welcoming her home as if nothing had happened, but she kept expecting some unspoken resentment to manifest one way or another.

She might’ve be free of Hive, but she would be never be free of herself.

Daisy mustered all her positive thoughts and channeled them into her tone of voice as she raised her head and opened her eyes to meet Fitz's, pasting a bright grin on her face.

“Hey Fi–”

She couldn’t help but freeze. She couldn’t help but freeze, and her jaw dropped to the ground like some shocked cartoon character. Daisy was damn glad she could stop herself from laughing out loud.

In fact, she was so proud of herself for not letting her hilarity run free that it took a moment for her to process exactly _why_ Fitz had deep red smudged lipstick-stains all over his face and a hint of it on his collar.

_No fricking way._

Fitz wasn’t oblivious to her change in expression and immediately began looking concerned.

“Daisy? You alright?”

“Yeah–” Daisy squeaked, and then cleared her throat to regain some normalcy. “Yeah I’m fine just…” She wracked her brain for some excuse– _any_ excuse that would change the subject.

“Just wondering how some scrawny little guy I knew became a hunky-chunky man.” She inwardly cringed because who _says_ that to their best friend?

Even if said best friend had red cosmetic pigment all over his face.

Fitz rolled his eyes and walked over from the doorway towards the table, and Daisy _prayed_ that he wouldn’t come and sit down because she didn’t know how much longer she could restrain herself from–

He sat down, and Daisy got a closer glance at one Leopold Fitz’s face.

_Oh my god it’s even on his earlobe._

She has to bite her lip, look down, and shuffle through some papers to keep from giggling and asking him questions.

Not about who’s lipstick it _was_ , anyway– Daisy knew quite well whose it was.

Not to mention she might’ve borrowed a lipstick with that _exact_ same shade from one Jemma Simmons not a month ago.

Fitz placed his hand over Daisy’s, and she stilled, although she kept her glance down at the table.

“Hey. I might not be that scrawny kid anymore, but I’m still the same guy that loves you no matter what. You know that, right?”

Of course she knew that.

Her eyes might’ve be getting a little blurry but she blinked a couple of times and forced herself to look at him –only into his eyes because she would snort and laugh if she looked at his face– and smirked.

“Stop being such a sap, _Leopold_. Honestly. Have you started reading some of Jemma’s romance novels?”

Her grin widened as he muttered and blushed a crimson red that looked even worse with the smudges already covering his skin, and he abruptly withdrew his hand from hers.

If she had any doubt before, this would’ve sealed the deal.

_Fitzsimmons is finally a thing._

Daisy wiped the grin off her face and looked at Fitz seriously, making sure her voice was steady and firm.

“Seriously, Fitz. I _know_. And the same goes with me.”

He smiled, patted her on the back a little awkwardly and stood up to leave.

“It looks like you have a lot of work to do," he said, stopping by the door, "so I’ll leave you to it. Oh, and don’t forget we have a meeting in an hour.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” Daisy sarcastically panned, and then perked up with a sudden thought.

“Hey Fitz!”

He turned around, and gave her a questioning glance that looked _hilarious_ with the marks on his face.

“Have you seen Mack yet?”

“No, why?” He tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

Daisy shrugged and struggled to keep from breaking out of her stoic features.

“I heard he was looking for you. Maybe you should drop by the garage.”

Fitz nodded and thanked her as he stepped out the door, leaving Daisy finally able to release her pent-up laughter.

_About fricking time, nerds. About damn fricking time._

Still giggling uncontrollably, she danced in her seat as she picked up her phone and texted Mack.

[Daisy:] Fitz is coming for you.

[Mack:] Ok. Why?

[Daisy:] Cause I sent him.

[Mack:] But why?

[Daisy:] You'll see.

***

Mack was just the slightest bit annoyed at Daisy and her cryptic text message. Why would she send Fitz to him? Not that he didn’t want to see his friend, but Coulson had _finally_ allowed him to take a look at Lola and he didn't want to waste another minute before dabbling under that hood. Still, no matter how annoyed he was, he couldn’t help but feel mildly intrigued.

“Hey Mack, you wanted to see me?”

“Turbo.” Mack peeked over his shoulder to glance at Fitz, and upon seeing his friend’s face he immediately turned back to the engine in an attempt to hide his spreading grin, ducking even further behind Lola’s hood as he heard Fitz's footsteps approaching.

“Mack?”

“Mack.”

“ _Mack._ ”

Realizing Fitz had been calling his name repeatedly, Mack casted another look at him –red painted face and all– and struggled to remain impassive.

“Sorry, man I’ve finally gotten to work on Lola.”

Mack straightened up and wiped his hands on a rag, cocking his head at Fitz and allowing himself to smile.

“What can I help you with?”

Fitz’s features turned to confusion and Mack silently berated Daisy for her sly scheming ways.

“Daisy said you were looking for me?” Fitz slowly pronounced and crossed his arms.

Mack frantically ran through scenarios that would wipe any suspicious from the engineer’s mind.

“Oh! Yeah I did, Turbo.”

Without looking, Mack randomly pointed at a spot under the hood, “I need some help with this? I'm not sure what it is, thought I could use your opinion.”

Fitz broke out into a grin, and Mack internally sighed in relief. Fitz stepped closer to the car and leaned to see what Mack was pointing at, giving Mack an even better view of the crimson blemishes covering him.

 _Jemma Simmons, huh. I knew the girl had it in her. Knew it from the start. Took her long enough, too but_ –

“Mack.” Fitz deadpanned, and lifted his head to the side to meet Mack’s gaze.

Mack quickly cleared his throat and lifted his eyes in a questioning motion.

“You need help… identifying... the _engine_?”

Mack looked down and saw his pointer finger directly aimed at Lola’s pristine, gorgeous engine.

_Oh shit._

“Uh... right! Thanks, Turbo.”

Mack patted Fitz on the back, a little too forcefully, and strained a laugh.

“I guess working with Daisy and tracking Inhumans has made me lose my touch!”

Fitz grimaced, rubbed his back and knotted his eyebrows at him in suspicion.

“You? _Lose your touch_? C’mon Mack, you didn’t really ask for my help, did you?”

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit._

In some form of a miracle, Mack suddenly thought of a _brilliant_ idea.

He pretended to sigh in defeat.

“You got me. I can still tell an engine from an exhaust pipe. I really just wanted to ask you…”

Fitz smirked and crossed his arms, waiting for him to continue.

“Yeah?”

“How you and Jemma are doing?”

Fitz’s already colored face instantly grew ten shades darker.

Mack smiled innocently and tipped his head to the side.

“I mean, are you guys being… safe becau–”

“MACK!”

“Turbo, I’m just saying–”

“I’m not discussing our… _life..._ with _you!_ ”

“But–”

“I'm just– I gotta–," Fitz gestured toward the door. "Don’t forget we have a meeting in twenty-five minutes!”

Fitz scrambled away, and Mack chuckled to himself, waiting  until he was out of sight before reaching for his phone.

There were a couple of people that just _had_ to know about this.

[Mack:] Haven't talked to you in a while. I have news.

[Mack:] The eagles are in the nest.

[Bird & Bird-brain:] ABOUT FUCKING TIME FITZ YOU ABSOLUTE BEAUTY  
JEMMA YOU PRINCESS YOU MACK YOU TELL ‘EM HUNTER HOPES THEY  
SHAG IN EVERY CORNER OF THE BASE IN MY HONOR

[Mack:] Too much, Bird-brain.

[Bird & Bird-brain:] This is Bird. Do not tell them that. Just say that we  
are happy for them though, and that now she knows that the ride was  
well worth it. We miss you all.

***

Fitz was taken aback and more than a little miffed by the lack of attention garnered by his presentation.

The intel they'd been gathering on Radcliffe's ongoing research was clearly concerning. Sure, they'd faced bigger threats lately, but this one was different. It was _personal_. Radcliffe was hijacking some of Fitz's most innovative research for nefarious purposes, using gear he'd spent months developing and tailoring specially for Coulson. That tech was not intended for the general public and certainly _not_ meant to arm criminals.

To put it mildly, Fitz was pissed to no end, and he'd been counting on the team's unflagging focus to help him put a stop to it.

Instead, Daisy was snickering in a corner and just _blatantly_ playing with her phone. Next to her, Mack appeared to be equally amused and although he hid it a little better, Fitz doubted he paid any attention to what was being said. At least May appeared to be looking at him, although she was staring with a decidedly unstudious smirk on her face, while Coulson glared down at the table, shaking his head.

He couldn't even count on Jemma for support –she and Lincoln were running late and hadn't  even showed up yet. Was there _anyone_ on that base that took this thing seriously?

He pushed on, conveying information about some of the special features he'd included in the lost prosthetic and stressing the utmost importance in retrieving the stolen equipment. Hell, he even mentioned _Hive_ to get a reaction out of Daisy, but when he looked at her and she eventually glanced up from her screen, she gave him a freaking _thumbs-up_ and wagged her eyebrows at him.

Why was everyone acting so _weird_?

The door slammed open, and Jemma and Lincoln burst through, rushing to their seats and huffing their apologizes, keeping their eyes at the ground. Fitz felt a sudden jolt of relief upon seeing Jemma– the team might not take him seriously, but at least now he had an ally in the room.

He turned back to the slide and, with his reinvigoration of spirit, continued his speech.

***

Jemma was so very late.

She and Lincoln had been too absorbed in their work in the Med bay to notice the time until they had finished, and realized that it was approximately twenty minutes after Fitz and Coulson’s briefing had started.

They had both ran to the break room, and upon entering Jemma rushed to grab her seat next to Daisy and directly across the presentation screen. She sat down and mumbled a greeting as she rummaged through her bag for her binder and pen.

“Hey, _Jemma_.” Daisy whispered seductively.

Wait. _Seductively?_

Jemma halted her rifling and glanced up at Daisy, who was grinning maliciously and a wild gleam behind her eyes.

“Daisy?” Jemma hissed back, confused at Daisy’s sudden intonation.

Daisy just pursed her lips together in a kissy-face, making small kissing noises at her before straightening up in her seat and turning face-forward to the Coulson and Fitz.

_What the hell was that?_

Jemma shook her head, resolved to question Daisy about it later _thoroughly_. Her face took on an assiduous expression  as she finally began to pay attention to the presentation– until she gasped in horror, her hand flying to her mouth as she took in Fitz’s appearance.

Next to her, Daisy snickered and heat rushed to Jemma’s cheeks as she finally understood her friend's weird demeanor _and_ everyone’s insistant glances.

Her secret boyfriend's face was covered in lipstick– _her_ lipstick– and it was oh so very _noticeable_. She watched in horror as Fitz, who didn’t seem to hear her audible gulps, turned to face the screen. Her heart dropped in her stomach when she saw even the back of his collar had red smudges on it.

How did that even happen?

 _Do boys just not look at themselves in mirrors? Oh my god_ – _it’s been an hour since we parted and he’s been walking around the base the ENTIRE TIME?_

Jemma’s hands trembled, and she frantically dove into her bag for her phone.

[Jemma:] FITZ

[Jemma:] FITZ MY LIPSTICK IS ALL OVER YOUR FACE

[Jemma:] FITZ EVERYONE CAN SEE IT OH MY GOD NO  
WONDER DAISY WAS MAKING SMOOCHY FACES AT ME

[Jemma:] FITZ EVERYONE KNOWS

[Jemma:] IT’S TOO MUCH

[Jemma:] WE REALLY ARE CURSED

[Jemma:] FIIIIITZ

 

She made a strangling noise at the back of her throat– _of course_ he’s not going to answer his phone now– and tried to ignore the giggles coming from her right.

Jemma risked a glance on her other side, only to freeze when she found Mack staring back right at her, a knowing grin on his face.

_Oh. My. God._

She looked at May, the only one who appeared to be paying attention to Coulson and Fitz, and breathed a slight sigh of relief at the thought that May hadn't noticed–

Suddenly, May turned to look at her, the ghost of a smile on her lips distinctly conveying the inner hilarity of the perpetually composed agent.

Jemma needed to get Fitz’s attention. _Now_.

She plastered her most anxious expression on her face, and began to send mental messages to him in an attempt to get him to realize that _HER LIPSTICK WAS CURRENTLY SMEARED ALL OVER HIS FACE FOR EVERYONE TO SEE._

After a few agonizing seconds, Fitz finally glanced at her and for a moment she was sure he understood what she was trying to communicate.

But  he just shot her a smug grin before he _winked_ at her, and resumed talking.

What was the point of being psychically linked when your boyfriend displays your affection all over his face and you couldn't tell him so without spelling it out to a roomful of colleagues _?_

Jemma resorted to using her hands, pointing to him and back to her face in an passably hysterical manner.

“And as you can see, the technology…”

Fitz, finally turning from the screen and back to the team, took in Jemma’s frantic gesturing and trailed off.

She nodded frantically at him, pointing to her mouth and back to him but his face just contorted in confusion. He cocked his head to the side in his trademark mannerisms that was so _adorable_ but so _frustrating she_ just couldn’t stand it anymore–

“UGH, FITZ!” Jemma exclaimed in a groan, slapping her forehead to express the depth of her humiliation and despair.

His jaw dropped to the ground, and the table erupted in laughter; May chuckling quietly, Mack's chortle rumbling, Lincoln giggling behind his hand and Daisy full-blown laughing and clapping her hands.

Jemma’s ears burned as Fitz’s eyes widened in befuddlement.

“Settle down!” Coulson’s voice boomed.

Immediately the room became quiet, and Coulson fixed his gaze onto Jemma.

“Simmons. I appreciate your enthusiasm about the information Fitz is presenting, but I suggest you kept your voice at a more _appropriate_ level.”

Jemma gulped as Coulson turned to face Fitz, who still seemed dumbfounded.

"And Fitz," Coulson snapped although a hint of humor shone through his words, "speaking of _appropriate,_ get that _damn_ lipstick off your face. This isn't a nightclub."

Jemma groaned as Fitz finally seemed to understand, reaching up and touching his face, bringing his hand out in front and seeing the red pigment that now dusted the tips of his fingers.

His face turned almost as red as the shade of lipstick scattered on his face, and his jaw dropped as he helplessly stared at Jemma.

The table erupted into laughter once more, including Coulson who smirked slightly and slapped Fitz on the back. Out of the corner of her eye, Jemma saw Daisy raise her phone and snap a picture of Fitz, howling in delight at his embarrassment and then nudging her side with her elbow making that _stupid_ kissy-face once more.

“Can’t wait to show this one to your kids, Fitz-Simmons.”


End file.
